


Untitled (12 October '02)

by Hope



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Real Person Fiction, lotrips
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-12
Updated: 2002-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope/pseuds/Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/7080.html</p></blockquote>





	Untitled (12 October '02)

Yep, Billy decided, they were definitely shagging.

It was just so fucking _hot_. The heat seemed to shimmer from the ground in a tar-smelling haze, and Billy imagined that if heat had a colour, here it would be black. Black and thick like the melting bitumen and crumpled cigarette stubs, or at least the fallout of ash around them; freckling the hotel logo in the ashtray on Elijah's coffee table.

"Don't know why you chose to live so close to the fucking equator." That was Dom, falling back into the leather clasp of the couch and pulling at the neck of his beer with a grimace.

"Fuck you." Elijah, barely more than a slurred obscenity; it seemed the heat had loosened tongues as well. Unless they always talked like this around each other. Billy glanced from one to the other. Elijah cracked open an eye, peering over his nose at Dom without lifting his head. "Where's my beer, bitch?"

Yep, definitely shagging.

"Get your own."

"I got the last round."

"You did fucking not!"

Elijah didn't move from where he was, slumped deep into the sweaty embrace of the couch, limbs spread wide and head thrown back. "It's my fridge."

"Maybe we should go outside," Billy suggested as Dom pushed himself up again with an exaggerated sigh.

"Can't," Elijah mumbled, reaching out and grasping futilely for a packet of cigarettes just out of his reach then letting his arm fall back to the couch in favour of leaning forward a little. "It's hotter out there."

The fan made another oscillating round, pushing hot air sluggishly against Billy's face rather than refreshing it. A car purred its way along the street outside, its passing marked by a subterranean heartbeat of music. Billy closed his eyes, trying to focus on the wormy trickle of sweat gluing his eyelashes like tears, and not the perpetual prickle of heat covering his body. His thighs were sticking to the chair and to each other. Gross.

At least New Zealand had had some _snow_, on occasion. A bit more like home, at any rate. He didn't know how Dom could stand it here, with the heat and the smog and the Americans. Mmm, snow. He imagined thrusting his arms into a huge drift of it, and then following the arms with the rest of his body. Snow. Blessed snow; cold, icy, cold, refreshing, cold, and --

Elijah made a small noise and Billy peeled his eyelids open, vision momentarily blurred enough to only see a dark question mark of a figure curved over Elijah's reclining form. He blinked again. All he could see of Dom's expression were jutting brows, his head bent, its movement following the path of the beer bottle as he drew it from where collarbone jutted out of limp shirt, along taut neck to below Elijah's ear. Billy swore he could see the gleam of condensation left on the flushed skin, and Dom laughed briefly, letting go of the beer bottle; it slid down Elijah's chest and into his lap. Dom vaulted over the back of the couch and back into his seat, grinning and licking his lips before taking another swig of his own drink.

Shagging. Billy thought weakly. Yes.

**Author's Note:**

> http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/7080.html


End file.
